


Turn Back The Universe And Give Me Yesterday

by hepsybeth



Series: Give Those Kids and Me the Brand New Century [6]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Canon Jewish Character, F/M, Prohibition, Rosh HaShana | Jewish New Year, it doesn't touch much on prohibition in this addition but it's set in the same universe so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepsybeth/pseuds/hepsybeth
Summary: Jack wasn't the biggest fan of change.





	Turn Back The Universe And Give Me Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy new part for my series!!!
> 
> also, massive, huge, fucking big disclaimer: i'm not jewish. this is also the longest i've taken to write one of these 1920s!Newises fics that i'm doing because i spent half the time researching about rosh hashanah (watching youtube videos, reading articles, reddit, tumblr posts, etc.) i know that i read about far more than i actually incorporated but i wasn't sure how to incorporate some things without doing it a disservice. there are just things that i haven't experienced and wouldn't do justice, but i tried my best! please add critiques if you can!!
> 
> the reason i made this set during the new year is because fuck me, that's why. i really do not know. i think i was going to do something hanukkah related but then i was like, why not do something i'm not familiar with? and thus birthed this lol.
> 
> also, like katherine plummer/pulitzer is canonically jewish (since joseph pulitzer is jewish, so). though, i suppose she would be half jewish since it doesn't seem like mrs. pulitzer was in real life (she was southern woman and she married ol' joe in an episcopalian church) so i was starting to write her as speaking yiddish, but figured that would be inaccurate since she wouldn't have that background? idk.
> 
> also also, i headcanon jack as half jewish and half navajo. the half jewish part comes from jeremy jordan being jewish and idk why not, and the half navajo part being because i feel like jack could have a tangible connection to santa fe (its_my_opinion.gif)
> 
> again, i'm not jewish but i tried my best at research, so please feel free to correct me!!
> 
> (tw warning for antinative slur since i headcanon jack as half navajo and the 1920s were extremely racist times)
> 
> title comes from "turn back the universe and give me yesterday" by Harry Macdonough and the Orpheus Quartet

Jack always loved watching the leaves change colors.

He decided on that early on in his childhood, what his favorite season was. In the darkness of the night, long after the silence of the evening became loud with his parents’ snoring, he verified it by process of elimination.

Winter, in his opinion, meant shivering to sleep. Winter meant numb red noses and slipping on the ice that covered the street. It meant a whole bunch of strangers sneezing on him and even snow couldn’t make up for that.

Spring offered warmth and flowers on one hand. And the sun’s warmth was well appreciated and the blooming flowers were always beautiful, but that was all it had going for it. Spring meant the resurrection of bugs and the red bumps that they would leave on Jack’s arms. Even Spring’s beautiful flowers carried heaps of yellow pollen that got on everything and everyone and would end up irritating Jack’s nose until he sneezed on a whole bunch of strangers himself.

Summer was the most unbearable of all. Sure, the pollen was gone and Jack could breathe again, but the bugs were back full force. Summer meant that the city would be reeking with all sorts of smells, and not all of them pleasant. Summer meant torrential rains and nerve-wracking thunderstorms and sticky sticky heat.

It was easier for a seven-year-old Jack Kelly to pick Autumn as his favorite. And why wouldn’t he? Not only was he born during the season, but Autumn was the perfect temperature, not hot and not freezing. Autumn meant eating in tents, decorating the insides with rows bumpy yellow fruit and bright diamond-patterned blankets, and sleeping under the stars. Autumn meant singing and dancing with his family, even though his mother couldn’t dance and his old man couldn’t sing. Autumn meant stuffing himself with apples drizzled with honey and sweet fry bread. Autumn meant both of his parents hugging him tightly as the shofar rang in the new year.

Granted, both of his parents died during Autumn but he tended to not dwell on that.

But the leaves on the trees changing from a uniform green to yellow here, orange there, and red everywhere else? It was amazing. It was wondrous. It was the cherry on top.

In fact, the Autumn season was what first inspired Jack to start drawing in the first place.

In the beginning, his art was crude and illegible. Were those trees or clouds? His artwork was also done with grey pencil on white paper and none of the colors that made the trees so beautiful were in his disposal. His mother saw how he was upset, and she bought him a box of crayons with eight whole colors for his birthday! After he mastered crayons, he finally graduated to paint and a whole new world opened up for the young boy.

At the moment, a twenty-two year old Jack Kelly was standing next to a park bench where a cup filled with muddy-colored water was sitting. In front of him sat his blank canvas. One of his hands gripped a paintbrush while the other held a stained pallette. Around him was the beauty of the multi-colored foliage and Jack would never grow old of it.

“Are you going to stand there all day or will I be able to finally witness the artistic genius of the famous Jack Kelly?” Katherine Pulitzer asked. She was seated on the bench, right next to the cup of water.

That was something else about her. Her last name was actually Pulitzer, not Plummer. Plummer was more of a pen name, something to use when she wrote articles. Jack could understand wanting the privacy but, lucky for him, he wasn’t the only Jack Kelly in New York so it was never like he could be singled out.

Jack grinned at his girlfriend. He had met Katherine a few months ago during the early Spring. She was a real beauty with a strong air of confidence to boot. Before she had first walked into the _New York World’s_ building, Jack was suffering through one of his rare artistic slumps (something his friend, Skittery, suffered through regularly. Except, instead of art, it tended to be everything). However, one look at her golden-brown hair, her heart-shaped face, and her sparkling brown eyes, Jack’s inspiration returned. After a few more instances of her coming to view the newspaper building, Jack finally decided to swallow his nerves and go and talk to her.

His first conversation was an unfortunate marriage of his foot in his mouth, but second time was the charm.

Sometime earlier that week, Katherine had suggested that Jack show her his artistic process. She’d only suggested it because he kept playing up what a great artist he was. Which was true. He was a fucking amazing artist. He’d never lie about anything like that.

“Hey. Patience is a virtue,” Jack said, choosing a shade of brown on his pallette before painting the outline of a trunk.

“Says who?”

“Says Finch,” Jack said, sure of himself. Known as “Patrick” by the nuns, his Catholic friend was never without a comment about the Golden Rule or the Seven Virtues or something else of that nature. The fella was always there with a verse on the tip of his tongue, ready to strike a friend who was committing a deadly sin. Be that as it may, it never kept Finch himself from engaging any of their hijinks.

“Who said I ever had any motivation to become virtuous?” Katherine asked. Jack could see her cross her arms from the corner of his eye.

Jack made a tsking sound as he finished off the tree trunks. “Such a bad girl.”

“Jack Kelly, if I didn’t like you so much, I would have already tossed this cup of water in your face.”

 _I don’t doubt it_ , Jack thought.

 _Anyway, enough talk_.

Jack got to work, glancing every so often at the trees he was modeling his painting after. He filled in the trunk, than he brushed in the leaves. Rolling meadows made up the bottom half of the canvas while a cloudless sky covered the top. Minutes passed by and he added small details here and there. He also replaces the city buildings in the distance with purple mountains because he preferred mountains. Sue him.

When he was done, he gave a little bow and gestured at the canvas. He felt pleased when Katherine's mouth dropped open, as if she wasn't watching him the whole time, and she slowly stood up, walking closer to the canvas.

Katherine gasped as she looked up and down the canvas. “Goodness, Jack. This is--”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s exquisite.” Katherine turned away from the painting to level Jack with a look. Jack recognized that sort of look. It was the kind of look Race got before fucking off to some card game. It was the kind of look Crutchie had before trying to steal alcohol. It was the kind of look that Romeo would get before trying, and failing, to win over some gal’s heart.

Jack hadn’t seen that look in Katherine’s eyes until now, and he was fairly certain about what she was going to say before she said it.

“No,” he said firmly. He opened the bag that held the sandwich he packed for this trip and started eating it.

Katherine frowned. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were goin’ t’ say somethin’ about sellin’ my work.”

Katherine raised a single eyebrow. “How could you have possibly known what I was going to say?”

“You had the look.”

“The look?”

“Yeah, the look,” Jack said, chewing around his chicken sandwich. “I’m good at readin’ looks and discernin’ shit.”

“And how did you learn that?”

Jack laughed. “You can’t know all my secrets.”

“And why don’t you want to sell your paintings. Because, Jack,” Katherine pointed at the painting of the orange and red trees, miniatures of the ones that filled the park. “You are amazing at what you do. And it didn’t take you that long to do it, even.”

Jack sighed. "Look, I tried that route. But I've got a comfy job, more or less, at the  _World_. I'm not givin' that up just yet."

Katherine smirked. "You can't multitask?"

"I'm a mess without addin' multitaskin'. Once I tried finishin' a cartoon at lunch and I was eatin' and drinkin' and I somehow spilled my drink all over the damn thing. No, it's either complete focus or nothin' at all."

“Speaking of lunch, you just reminded me.” Katherine took Jack’s hands into hers. “My folks and I are hosting Rosh HaShanah dinner this year and my mother tasked my father, my brothers, my sisters, and I with inviting people.” Katherine shrugged. “The more the merrier, as they say.”

"Dinner with your folks, huh."

"I really hope you say yes," Katherine said. The look in her eyes weren't pleading, though. They were determined. It was almost like if Jack said no, Katherine would find some way for him to show up anyway. Katherine always seemed to have different plans stored in her mind and if one didn't work out, she had a few more to spare.

 _I love her_ , Jack thought.

"I will absolutely have dinner with you. Don't you worry."

Katherine kissed his cheek and smiled a smile that could put a light bulb to shame.

* * *

Jack couldn’t remember the last time he had actually celebrated the new year, either of them. Granted, he was never one to turn down food and both holidays had plenty, but he didn’t too much engage in either. Because New Years meant resolutions and atonements and _change_. And Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of change.

It wasn’t like Jack hated all change. Jack hated a life in stagnation, always stuck in the same old schtick. If it wasn’t for the fact that he enjoyed his company at the _World_ , and that he had a pretty steady income, he would’ve dropped it the second he got bored to tears. Change wasn’t all bad. Granted, it wasn’t all good either.

Change meant his lively mother catching pneumonia and remaining mostly bedridden to the end of her days. Change meant his easy-going father becoming cold and serious, wearing himself to the ground every day to provide for their family until he died as well, giving him advice like "don't starve". Change meant getting booted out of his warm, yet empty, home into the cold, and crowded, unknown. Change meant friends of his father briefly taking him, yet blaming every bad thing he did on the fact that he was a “no good son of a squaw”. Change meant skipping over from one neighborhood to another with the idea that maybe there was something better waiting for him and becoming very disappointed.

Jack, at the very least, accepted change. There wasn’t any way to go back and reverse what had happened so what was the use crying about it? In fact, the best thing to do was to distance himself from whatever that change was related to and try to find it within himself to leave it behind.

Jack had somewhere to go before he headed to his apartment. And as he went, he realized that this would be a change, having dinner with Katherine. And it’d be a nice change. He was quite fond of her and he hoped that the rest of her family were just as nice as, or even nicer than, her.

But it wasn’t just change that Jack tried to distance himself from. It was atonement.

Because Jack had done and said so many things in the course of the year. And he knew, _he knew_ , that he wasn’t that great of a guyd.

Regardless, he purchased a small loaf of bread from the local bakery. He exited the building with the loaf underneath his arm and headed towards the Hudson River.

He did this every year when these Days of Awe began, even after his parents died.

Jack remembered coming here with his parents around this time every year. He was much shorter them, always running to catch up with them. Jack smiled to himself as he gazed upon the water before him. He knew for a fact that he was taller than his old man now. Taller than both his parents. Yet, whenever he thought of them, he could only imagine seeing them towering over him. He couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Jack remembered how the bad things he’d do as a kid seemed so big, so important. He was good at remembering things, so he could recall when he stuck gum in some annoying girl’s hair, when he crushed a lady bug instead of setting it free, when he back talked to his teacher when he confiscated his crayons. Soon, he’d run out of things to cast off and his small piece of bread would’ve been reduced to crumbs. And then they’d leave, his small legs hurrying after his parents as they walked away from the river. Soon enough, though it seemed like forever to a young Jack, the three would return the following year.

It had only been Jack returning on his own for a while now.

He removed the loaf of white bread from under his arm, walking closer to the water. And then, he began, reciting a verse he’d remembered his father saying, like he would say every year: _He will take us back in love. He will cover up our iniquities. You will hurl all our sins into the depths of the sea._

Jack always wondered about that, how throwing bread into the Hudson River would lighten his load. It was just bread and it was just water. But doubt was never enough to deter Jack. It didn’t need to make sense. It was the consistency. It was the memories. It was the fact that doing this made it seem like, if only for a moment, his parents were right there with him.

There were a few years where it was harder. They were mostly after his parents died and he started this trek alone. Somehow, he had come up with the idea that it was his fault his parents were dead. Maybe he did something wrong. He wasn’t stupid. He knew some friends of his dad would rather his father be there instead of him. He knew friends of his mom had their own gripes. He wondered if he could’ve stopped his mother from getting pneumonia. Maybe if had listened more, the universe wouldn’t have punished him for his transgressions.

Those years, the loaf of bread never seemed large enough to rid himself of guilt. The water didn’t seem to wash it away fast enough.

It had taken a long while for Jack to believe that it wasn’t his fault, that sometimes things just happen. Sometimes things changed for the worse and there was no one to blame.

He tore a piece of bread and cast it into the Hudson River, his mind searching where he went wrong this year, his heart wondering how he could improve.

Soon, the loaf was reduced to crumbs and he rubbed his hands down his suit, breathing deeply. Jack didn’t think he was that great of a guy, though Katherine apparently thought otherwise, but at least he was trying to improve.

He looked once more at the river before heading back.

* * *

“Whatchu gettin’ dressed for?” Crutchie asked Jack. The two lived together, have lived together since they were boys when Jack decided to take the younger kid under his wing. They’d just recently moved into this apartment in Greenwich Village, sometime within the last couple of years. Their other friends, the ones they had grown up with through rough times, lived in the neighborhood as well, some in the same building. Jack used to pull all the weight when it came to paying rent, but now Crutchie was paying his share. Yet, whenever Jack asked where he was getting his dough, Crutchie would become tight lipped. And Jack didn’t care to pry. Crutchie would tell him when he wanted to. He trusted him to.

“A dinner,” Jack explained. “With Katherine and her folks.” Jack held up two different ties, the only two ties he owned. “Red or black?”

Crutchie made a face from where he was seated at the other side of the room. He paused whatever he was writing down on some notepad on his lap. “Why red?”

“I dunno,” Jack said, shrugging. “It’s festive.”

“Why’s it have t’ be festive?”

“New year's.”

Crutchie smirked. “I think you’re a few months too early, Jack.”

“Depends on the calendar.” Jack stared at the red tie for a few more seconds and tossed the black tie onto the nearby chair. “Red it is. Stands out.”

Crutchie tapped his pencil against his notepad until he practically shouted, “Oh!”

“Oh, what?”

“Oh, New Year’s.” Crutchie smiled, satisfied with figuring it out. “Davey was talkin’ about that.”

Jack raised a questioning eyebrow. “How do ya know Davey?”

Crutchie shook his head, still smiling. Instead of answering, he said, “Y’know, for a quiet guy, he sure does talk a lot.”

“Now, we must be talkin’ ‘bout two different Daveys. You heard the mouth on that fella? Quiet my ass.”

“Maybe he’s jus’ awkward around people he don’t know,” Crutchie suggested.

Jack considered this. He remembered Davey’s first day at the _World_ , how he was polite enough to drive a man insane, but tended to keep to himself. That was, until someone began talking politics and apparently it had insensced Davey enough to correct him on every point. And he didn’t shut up about it until the other man conceded.

Though, to be fair, after he was done, Davey’s face went as red as a tomato’s and he didn’t speak a word for the rest of the day.

It was kind of adorable, Jack was willing to admit.

“So,” Crutchie started, “This dinner with Katherine. This a formal occasion?”

“They’re rich,” Jack replied, simply.

“Hoity toity?” Crutchie asked.

Jack thought back to some of Katherine’s mannerisms. And, as much as he liked her, you could tell that she and the silver spoon were old companions. “Hoity toity,” Jack agreed. “So it’ll probably be unbearably formal.”

“I’d say go with the black tie then.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fuck that. They’re gonna wish they had somethin’ this nice!” Jack looked at Crutchie, noticing that he was hunched over, writing something down on his notepad. He was doing that more and more often. “Whatchu writin’?”

“Personal journal,” Crutchie answered.

“What for?”

“Who knows? I might write a book one day or somethin’.”

“Let me know when ya publish it. I’ll buy ten copies.”

Crutchie laughed.

“You got any plans tonight?” Jack asked.

Crutchie shrugged, looking up. “Not sure. I might see what the others are doin’.”

“Just try not to steal any more alcohol.”

Crutchie made a face. “That was _one time!_ ”

Now it was Jack’s time to laugh.

* * *

The dinner wouldn’t be for another few hours, but Jack figured that a few hours early was better than a couple minutes late. He didn’t want to make a bad impression, after all.

He took a taxi and told the driver the location near where the Pulitzer household would be. In the silence of the car, Jack kept on thinking about what he was going to do. How should he greet himself? What should he say? What was considered bad manners? He was so fucking nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous, damn it.

He told the driver that he was good to walk the rest of the way. After paying him, Jack got off and looked around. He was in a richer neighborhood, that was for sure. As some visibly wealthy people walked down the sidewalk, he adjusted his hat and nodded with a smile on his face.

They ignored him.

“Fuckin’ hoity-toity,” Jack muttered. On that note, he probably shouldn’t curse in the presence of Katherine’s folks, much less on this holiday.

He walked for a little while longer, reading the numbers on the different houses until it got closer and closer to his destination.

The closer he got, the more nervous he became.

Why was he nervous? He didn’t have to be nervous.

“Stop worryin’,” Jack said to himself once he got to the house. Suddenly, the door was right in front of him and his right hand was clenched into a fist and raised, with the intention of knocking.

He took a deep breath. And then another. And another for good measure.

Jack knocked at the door.

It only took a few knocks before the door swung open. From inside the house, he could hear a whole mess of noises. People were talking, food was frying, children were laughing. Where the door once stood was now a young woman who wasn’t Katherine. But, save her long auburn hair and bright blue eyes, they could be sisters.

Jack could have hit himself. Of course they were sisters.

_Get yourself together!_

The woman gave Jack a wide smile. “ _L’Shanah Tova!_ ”

“Hey! Hi! Happy New Year!” Jack said in response. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean--”

The woman held up a finger, silencing him. She looked him up and down and smiled. “You’re here for Katherine, aren’t you?”

“That obvious?”

She smiled. “I’m her sister. I know these things.” A second later, the woman turned and shouted inside the house. “Katherine! This one’s for you!” She turned back and smiled again, holding out her hand for Jack to shake. “My name is Constance. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Jack Kelly,” he said, shaking her hand firmly. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Constance moved from the door, gesturing for him to come inside.

Jack wasn’t sure if he could’ve prepared himself to see the inside of the house. The floor was shiny, the curtains were brightly-colored. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and reflected twinkling lights every which way. Every corner, from what Jack could see, was richly furnished. There was a theme of deep reds and warm browns, somehow making it seem less magnificent and more homey. To his left was the dining room, the table already holding up the plates of covered food. There were paintings on the wall, of countryside landscapes and Jack thought, a little boastfully, that he could paint much better than that.

To his right was a staircase and coming down said staircase was Katherine. She wore a light pink formal dress and her short hair bounced in curls. She looked elegant. Absolutely regal.

What Jack wouldn’t give to have his canvas right now and paint her.

Once Katherine saw Jack, her mouth widened into a smile. She hurried down the stairs and headed towards him. Jack didn’t realize that she was going to hug him until she did. Jack chuckled and awkwardly hugged her back.

“ _Chag Sameach!_ ” Katherine laughed, releasing him from her hug. “Goodness, I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to be here.”

“Let me introduce you to everybody.” And with that, Katherine gripped Jack’s wrist like a vice and they headed towards the kitchen. On the way, they passed many other people, one a sleeping old man, but Jack figured he’d meet them in due time.

Inside the kitchen were three women. The younger looking one was talking to the oldest one, probably the mother. The other one was busy kneading some bread with a look of intense concentration in her face.

“Jack,” Katherine began, “Meet Edith, Lucille, and my mother. Edith, Lucille, Mother, meet Jack.” Katherine turned to Jack. “You already met Constance over there.”

“Hello,” Jack greeted, figuring that it was more formal than saying “hey”. “I’m very grateful that you’ve invited me to your home today.”

The mother, Mrs. Pulitzer, was all smiles as she mixed something up in the bowl she was holding. The next oldest woman who was kneading the dough said something in Yiddish, appearing to be directed at Katherine. Mrs. Pulitzer walked across the kitchen. Without warning, she took Jack’s face in her hands and she kissed Jack’s forehead. “ _L’Shana Tova!_ Welcome to our home!” Suddenly her face became serious. “Are you sweet on my daughter?”

Jack glanced at Katherine, who was covering her eyes with her hand. He looked back at the mother. “Um, yes?’

Instantly, the Mrs. Pulitzer’s face brightened and she squealed in delight. “This handsome man is sweet on my daughter!”

Jack hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He sniffed. “Is that smoke?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Pulitzer’s face fell. “Edith burned the challah.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Edith said, crossing her arms. “Herbert was distracting me.”

“You should’ve come just a little later. We wouldn’t have minded.”

“Father would have minded,” the other woman said. Lucille.

“Now, out of the kitchen for now,” Mrs. Pulitzer said, pushing Katherine and Jack out. “Dinner will be ready before you know it. Edith, go set the table.”

“I already set the table!”

“Double check.”

“Ugh.”

From there, Katherine showed Jack the other guests. Some were members of the family and some were simply friends. There were so many. Children were running all about with sticky fingers, singing at the top of their lungs. A few babies were wailing. Older family members with greying hair and expensive clothing were either gossiping with expressive hands or, in the case of the old man, snoring. Katherine introduced Jack to her two brothers, both of whom sized Jack up when they noticed his close proximity to their sister, not backing off until Katherine threatened something of value.

There were easily thirty people inside the house, all talking at such a loud volume that Jack was required to raise his voice in order to talk to Katherine.

“Your family ain’t anything like I thought’d it be,” he said.

“And how’d you think it’d be?” Katherine asked.

Jack decided to be truthful. “Honestly? Stuck up.”

“We’re just people Jack. Like you and all the others.”

 _Not just like me_ , Jack thought. But he didn’t want to get into their differing standards of living this evening.

“What about your old man?”

“My what?”

“Your dad?”

“Oh.” Katherine said, not continuing.

“And?”

“You’ll see him at dinner. Don’t worry.”

“Who said I was worryin’?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“What’s he like? On account of me possibly needing his blessin’ one o’ these days?”

Katherine squeezed Jack’s hand. “He’s nice when you get to know him.”

“That don’t sound promisin’.”

“Trust me.”

* * *

Jack wasn’t one to trust easily, but he was willing to make an acception for Katherine.

Especially when dinner was announced and the mass of people headed toward the long dining table.

Jack saw him walk to the head of the table. He looked a lot like Katherine or, rather, Katherine looked a lot like him. They had the same nose, the same ears, the same chin, the same eyes. Although, where Katherine’s were kind, Mr. Pulitzer’s looked judgemental.

Especially when he looked at Jack.

Jack tried his darndest not to falter under his gaze.

The room was aglow with the lighted candles, the flames flickering here and there. The food in front of the table blew Jack away. He hadn’t been to a Rosh HaShanah dinner in years, but, even so, he had never recalled so much food. There was roast chicken and brisket, apple cake and honey cake, chocolate babka and platters of fruit, not to mention the honey.

There was even a plate of fish heads and a warm memory of Jack's father entered his mind. Something about it symbolizing that they should be the head and not the tail.

Across the table, Jack could see Edith proudly smiling to herself for making the table look so nice, despite her mother’s nagging.

“I see that there are some new faces here,” Mr. Pulitzer stated and the table erupted into laughs, as if it were a joke he had made many times before. He made a pointed face at Jack before looking away and continuing. “I feel so blessed to have you here this new year, the year 5682. We’ve all had our many ups and downs this year, perhaps many more downs than we would have preferred. Nevertheless, we are all gathered here today with a sweeter year right around the corner.” Mr. Pulitzer looked at Jack again and Jack gulped as the man continued. “However, we should not forget the blessing of the last year, despite any hardships we have endured. Sometimes, the best things, and the best people, come from places you’d least expect.”

Jack glanced at Katherine, confused. Did that mean Mr. Pulitzer was alright with him, or was he just talking generally?

Katherine only smiled and Jack couldn’t understand how someone so beautiful could be so frustrating.

Once he was through, Mr. Pulitzer began to bless the wine, the Kiddush, singing in a rough voice as he did so. _"Baruch atah_ _Adonai_ ," he sang, _"Eloheinu melech ha-olam, borei p’ri hagafen."_   Finishing that, everyone seated raised their glasses of wine and a chorus of “ _L’chaims_ ”s and " _L’shana tovah u’metukah"_  came from the table. Then, Mr. Pulitzer blessed the challah.

When the man finished blessing the challah, Katherine’s brother, Herbert, loudly said, “Let’s eat!” Everyone laughed and everyone followed the young boy’s instruction.

* * *

“Did you have a good time?” Katherine asked as she walked with Jack outside. “Please tell me you had a good time. Or, if not, point out the person who made it a bad time and I’ll deal with them.”

Jack laughed. He wrapped his arm around Katherine’s back. “I had an amazing time. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And Jack was surprised with how much of that statement was true. Sure, he probably wouldn’t have been bothered by people in high society any other day of the year, and they most definitely wouldn’t have found themselves in his company. But despite their mannerisms, they were genuinely nice people, all wishing him a good _yom tov_. Most of them were extremely funny, telling jokes like they breathed air. All the children were a handful though, all hyped up on sweets. But they were adorable despite it. Katherine’s mother was sweet and somehow seemed to drag Jack back to his seat whenever he tried to leave, insisting that he try some more of her food. The snoring man, Katherine’s grandfather, her _zeyde_ , was only awake during the prayers and stayed awake long enough for some apples and honey, but fell asleep soon after. Much like Skittery, not even shrieking children waked him up.

There was still the case of Mr. Pulitzer. His opening speech at the table had Jack half-convinced that he was okay with him, but he still managed to be steely-eyed toward him the rest of the evening, only once breaking his silence by making a comment about Jack's red tie. No matter. Jack would deal with it.

Katherine breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m happy about that. Here I was, worried, thinking I made a bad impression.”

“You were worried about makin’ a bad impression? C’mon. I’m easily impressed, didn’t ya know?”

“Still. I like you Jack.” Katherine looked into Jack’s eyes. “I like you an awful lot.”

“I like you an awful lot too, Katherine,” Jack said before bending down to kiss her under the bright moonlight.

Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of change. He’d experienced too many bad consequences of it in his life and while he was always willing to accept it eventually, he always worried about what the next change would be. But in the brisk Autumn air, Jack decided upon a resolution of a sort. Change, he decided, was alright. Perhaps, change could be good this time around.


End file.
